


eternity rests in your hands

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, M/M, happy birthday senpai, vague descriptions of everything because i am lazy, you get it all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:02:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2726549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But right now, running his own over feathery palms, jutting knuckles which bear more meticulous care than needed and nails which glint every time Takao temptingly swipes them under the fall of sunlight, he thinks there is nothing else he would rather hold onto for the rest of eternity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	eternity rests in your hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neverdreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverdreams/gifts).



 

They lay between his fingers and Takao marvels at how enchanting they are. Each contour devised yet another captivating sector, every line another delicate scintilla of snapshot artistry. Takao dismisses the question of _when oh when did he become so utterly fascinated with this man’s hands._ But right now, running his own over feathery palms, jutting knuckles which bear more meticulous care than needed and nails which glint every time Takao temptingly swipes them under the fall of sunlight, he thinks there is nothing else he would rather hold onto for the rest of eternity.

*

There isn’t a defining moment where Takao realised his persistent love for Midorima. The nickname was typical of him (Shin-Chan isn’t my only friend, you know…!) or so he convinced himself. The incessant need to be at the shooter’s side was also justified, (You see, Shin-Chan needs my help. Who’s gonna listen to his Oha-Asa ramblings?!!) But he has forgotten when they went from ‘Shut up Takao,’ to ‘We’re both ranked high today, love.’ Accompanied by the daily lucky item; a stuffed toy, a useless household object or food of some sort.

He remembers, though, the small moments they shared leading up to Midorima’s gradual change in his approach to Takao. Like the way he’d dragged Midorima to the dentist one time. His ‘phobia’, one may call it, had never really abandoned him from childhood, and ‘Shin-Chan was always good moral support.’ Midorima had huffed, pushing his glasses up in that signature technique Takao never got enough of. He went anyway, because this was Takao and he would definitely do the same for him. Takao had shivered the entire journey with fright, up until the point Midorima convinced himself if he felt even a smidgen of a tremble from the point guard he’d desert him, right there and then. Jumping off the train wasn’t that bad an idea compared to sitting beside this human… _vibrator_.

Of course, Midorima didn’t. He’d lent Takao his hand, asking him to hold on for comfort. The boy could’ve died of exuberance, his smile so large it may have been larger than his face.

So he ignored the press of nails into his palm when the dentist came over with the instruments, and then the dragging scratches that left rose marks behind. When Takao saw them, however, he nearly bawled out in public. Insisting to make them feel better, he’d reached out and made a grab at him, swiftly covering the damaged skin in earnest, sloppy kisses.

“I’m so sorry, Shin-Chan. You don’t ever have to come with me again.”

“You idiot. Like you’re going to go if I don’t.”

*

 

His second significant memory is one he can remember so vividly it felt like yesterday. When he did hear the news that Midorima’s parents had passed away in a car accident, he couldn’t do any more but to just be there, by his side, like he always was. It became a problem when Midorima began missing three-pointers, when he began treating basketball like an unknown whim thrown at him, and his grades plummeted down.

“Your scores are never this low!”

“Doesn’t matter, Takao.”

Then Takao insisted on visiting him. (Even though it was a bit of a surprise on Midorima’s part, he wasn’t expecting Takao at _that_ moment) “Please, Shin-Chan, I can’t take this anymore. You had better come out of this shell. Or else.”

His wrists had snaked around Midorima’s neck from his seated position, then his arms, until his fingertips played with the barely-there hairs. Midorima had surprisingly allowed him, and didn’t say anything both when Takao brought his head onto his shoulder and he’d began sobbing, loud, heavy sobs which soaked right through Takao’s jumper. Midorima recalled it well too, leaning into Takao, sinking into his strength which had always been there for him. His heart had been vicious, and Takao had been the form of release he never saw.

Midorima had gripped onto Takao that day, like his life depended on the power of his clutch to the dark, woolly material.

“They’re gone, Takao- What am I going- what will I do without them?”

And then, he’d ignored the soak of Shin-Chan’s precious tears in his clothes, and lifted his head far from his chest, looked him straight in the eyes. His glasses were murky, smoky- Takao had taken them straight off. Silver eyes met green ones and they held still, and Takao had been taken aback by bow captivating they were. His lips had parted for seconds, to say something, anything, but the words were still on the scavenger hunt to find his mouth. His Shin-Chan was being dismantled, and he could see it in those eyes he continued to gaze into. Oh, and how Takao would go to the edge of the Earth to turn back time, just so he would never go through the pain of seeing Midorima in this state.

“You’re going to look to the future, Shin-Chan. You’re going to make them prouder than they ever would’ve been.”

And Midorima began his weeping again, and this time, he had removed his hands from Takao’s jumper and put them around Takao instead.

*

The last is the most recent. Takao’s birthday only meant going out, partying, drinking (hopefully waking up in somebody else’s bed with a terrible hangover). Obviously, Midorima wasn’t missing it. Whether he had to drag the shooter out of his introverted state quite literally, he’d do it. What he didn’t expect is to be successful, and then for Midorima to get fricking frisky on the dance floor.

Midorima did not get _frisky._

He did not get touchy, or feely, or actually enjoyed any kind of physical contact, but when Kise whines that they should get a room, Takao wonders _what the fuck why_ and then Midorima’s hands are up his shirt and touching his clammy back with those bandaged fingers and _oh god this isn’t the time shin-chan._ They do eventually get a room, and everything from then on is so fuzzy Midorima believes the memory had been covered by a very thick blanket of freaking lead, as to prevent further embarrassment. Takao remembers it all though, the desperation in undressing his Shin-Chan, tracing his hands over every slice of exposed skin. And how _naked_ he’d felt when Midorima had done the same to him, and how his innocence washed over him like a wave when Midorima had pressed those fingers to his chest and seated him down on the bed. He remembers how his half-hard cock was begging to be touched, caressed, felt, by Midorima’s perfect hands and how could he forget when he had his mental wish granted. The image of those slender digits passing over his length, pausing every now and then to give a goddamn teasing squeeze, and the sensation of having his fingertips stroking the slit. How easily he’d reached the brink, struggling with the pure fact that this was his Shin-Chan doing this, and _wow did it feel good._

He did in fact wake up in someone else’s bed that morning with a terrible hangover.

He was just glad it was Midorima’s.

*

“Hey, Kazu. Will you marry me?”

Midorima was blunt when he popped the question. Hadn’t he always been?

“Yes Shin-Chan! Of course I will! What kind of question is that anyway? Weren’t we already meant to get married?! Aw, Shin-Chan’s so cute when he’s blu-“

And again, he’s cut off. Not by a typical ‘Shut up Takao’ but this time a proclamation of ‘I love you, you idiot. A simple yes would’ve been acceptable.’

Takao knows that this is his confirmation that yes- he can hold Shin-Chan’s hands for all eternity.

 

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments appreciated c:


End file.
